The End of the Tunnel
by Void Character
Summary: Harry, raised by Voldemort since the age of five, is visited by the ghost of his mother. She has arrived with a special request for him involving his recently captured sister, Haley a.k.a. The Girl-Who-Lived. Will she be able to talk some sense into Harry? Or is the monster inside him just too far gone? Rated M for implied violence and gore.


Harry pulled the rag off his dresser to wipe the blood off his face. He unsheathed the knife by its side and began to lift his shirt.

Scores of stripes revealed themselves on his stomach, chest, and sides. And as he brought the cold blade across his chest once more, a new one was added. This was the 74th. For his 74th victim.

He barely flinched anymore. As his time with Voldemort became more and more, he flinched less and less with each passing kill, as well as each passing lash that followed in suit. He carelessly wiped the blooded knife on his already red-dyed pants and tossed the knife to the floor. Allowing his exhaustion to take over, he sat on his regal, silver and green bed.

Staring hard at the floor, he didn't move for several minutes. Until . . .

"I know who you are and I know what you want," Harry said, eyes hard and open.

Silvery matter swirled lightly from the air and united in a center next to where Harry sat. The center took the form of a woman in her mid to late twenties. She smiled at Harry, a stark contrast to the blank stare Harry gave the floor.

"My baby," Lily Potter spoke eloquently. "You've grown so much."

Harry decided to ignore her completely and focus on the extravagant silver clock that ticked on the opposite wall. He had an engagement with the Dark Lord in an hour. And he wanted to be rested for it.

Soon though, it became apparent that rest would not come easy, as Lily Potter stayed by his side, giving him a warm smile and waiting with the patience of a ghost.

"Don't pretend to care. I know what you want," said Harry frankly, turning his stare to the eyes of his mother. The mother who died sixteen years ago.

"Who was it this time?" she asked, just as frankly. Her face dropped most of its awe and switched to some form of disappointment.

"An old man, happily put out of his misery."

"Do you really believe that?"

Harry gave a stiff nod. "His liver was dangling outside his body like a limp fish. I do believe he is happier now," he said monotonously.

"If you think it's so right, then what is this?" Lily moved towards Harry's shirt. Out of pure reflex, Harry's hand shot out to catch her arm, but he only grasped air. Her hand lifted his shirt gently, displaying his mutilated torso to the room.

Harry's eyes found the clock again. He tugged his shirt back down and began moving towards it.

"Clearly you think your actions are wrong. So that raises the interesting question of why you continue. What have you to gain from it all?" Lily rose as well and glided towards her son.

"You enjoy it, don't you? After all these years, the thrill of the kill has found you like heroine finds a drug addict. Is there any soul left in that little body?"

As the word 'little' came out, Harry shrank down to the floor. His face looked pained.

"It was never my intention to become like I am," Harry said, emotionless.

"You can change, son. I thought you were long gone. I thought I would never see my little boy again. Only a demon wearing his body. But then I saw you earlier today. I saw the way you looked at Haley. How your eyes filled with such love and sorrow for just a moment."

Harry didn't deny it. Seeing Haley again unlocked a hidden reservoir of memories that had been buried for nearly fifteen years. He remembered a warmth that felt so wonderful. He loved her with all his heart. And then he was horrified that he might kill her, as he had countless others. He couldn't control it anymore. It was a reflex, something that kept him going, just like sleeping or breathing.

When their eyes connected, it was like Lily could hear all of his thoughts. She smiled hesitantly and bent down so their eyes were level.

"There is hope, Harry. You can leave this darkness behind and feel the warmth again . . . ."

Harry shot to his feet. His face contorted with anger.

"Don't you dare go there! I know what you want of me and it's not fair. This is your fault! You made me the way I am!"

"Harry-"

"You let him get me. Where were you when I was a kid alone in a dungeon crying. Being forced to kill to survive?"

Lily did not respond to Harry's attack. Instead she led a different route.

"Do you remember the day you were taken? You were with Petunia. You and Haley were five. The Death Eaters were there just for your sister, but you ran at them with the strength of a dozen men, fighting tooth and nail. Thanks to you, she managed to escaped with the Order. That was the day you were forced into Voldemort's ranks. And now you face the question of, will you let your own sacrifice go in vain? Do you have that same courage you had when you were a toddler?"

Harry's face turned into a grimace. His eyes welled with tears.

"Mum, don't make me do it . . . ."

"You made mistakes, son," she said, reaching out a ghostly hand and brushing his tears away.

"Mum-"

"You're ruining lives and families selfishly."

"But-"

"You're an abomination, Harry." She said this looking at him directly, unblinking. There was no exaggeration, no deception, only truth.

Harry covered his face with both hands as tears began to seep out.

"Mum, please don't make me go into the darkness," Harry begged.

"You live in the darkness. And that will be what you know for the rest of your life and beyond. You will get so full of it that you'll become like Voldemort, perhaps worse. Let the remnants of the soul you have left guide you. Do the right thing, Harry, and one day Haley will be your sister again."

Harry's face softened. He thought back to their years together. Playing Vampire. Stealing their father's broom from the shed. Soaring higher and higher towards the poofy, white clouds. She was the pilot and Harry was her first mate. He made sure they stayed on course. He made sure nothing ever happened to her.

A wave of relaxation hit Harry. It was like the air had gotten warmer and quieter and it would stay that way forever.

Lily waited patiently in front of him, as if she knew his train of thought, and let it follow its tracks. When their eyes connected once more, her face evolved into a magnificent smile.

Harry took a moment to look at his mother, perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and soak her in. How had he forgotten such beauty?

_Do the right thing._

"I know you saw what Haley took from Yaxley."

Harry waited a moment before nodding.

"Go to her."

As if in a trance, Harry rose. He grabbed keys from his dresser and moved towards the door.

"Don't tell her your name," she spoke, just as he had gotten to the door.

"I know, Mum," he whispered.

And he walked through it, leaving his mother behind in the chamber. He was going to see his sister.

This trip to the dungeons was different from all the others. The dirt and grime and moans of many were welcoming. Harry strode near a cell in particular. This one held a girl he had personally captured. A high-security prisoner awaiting confrontation with the Dark Lord himself, Haley Potter.

Sooner than even Harry expected, he felt an abrupt tug of his body and a cold blade was pressed to his Adams apple.

"Who are you?" whispered a female voice.

"My name is unimportant," Harry said carelessly.

She paused, surprised.

"I have a knife at your throat. You better answer my questions or you'll have a new hole to say stupid things through. Now, I have a little test for you. Answer truthfully and to the best of your ability and you may pass. Do not lie. I will know if you lie."

Harry was proud of the force and confidence in his sister's voice. She was the one who would lead the light and end the evil he had fought beside for so many years.

"Are you a Death Eater?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever killed an innocent person?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever tortured anyone?"

"Yes."

She waited a few seconds before asking her next question.

"Have you ever raped anyone?"

"Yes."

The last was a lie. He showed no respect for the brutes among Voldemort's ranks who committed such acts. However, Harry answered with such frankness and absence of emotion that it could only be construed as true.

"Why should I let you live?"

"You shouldn't."

That one threw her off a little.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because if you let me go, I will kill again. I will kill your friends and family. I will torture and rape. I will make the world a place of nightmares . . . ."

"Shut up. You must be intoxicated. This is not how you bargain for your life!"

"Who's bargaining?"

She ignored him.

"Do you have a key for this cell?"

"I do."

"Give it to me or I'll kill you," the knife pressed deeper into his neck.

"Kill me and I'll give it to you."

That was the clincher. Haley had to escape. She had to live so she could kill Voldemort one day. Meanwhile, he had to die. No innocent person would ever be safe with him around, not excluding Haley. And once she realized who he was, she would never let him go in peace. He had to die here and now, but only once Haley's freedom was ensured.

The knife went slack against his neck.

"I don't understand," she said.

"The key is in my right inner-cloak pocket. You'll need to release some hold of me to grab for it, giving me sufficient time to side-step the knife, grab it with both hands, and swing it across your throat. However, if you kill me first, my body won't care what searches you make," said Harry casually.

Meanwhile, inside of him was chaos. Every primal instinct rushed out at the same time. He wanted to live. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to feel her blood on his hands.

The knife at his throat shook a bit. He felt her breath on the back of his neck, and it was almost comforting. It kept him strong. It kept the monster in him from going for the kill.

"You've never taken a life before, have you?" Harry asked understandingly.

She said nothing.

"You'll have to get used to it to have any shadow of a chance of killing Voldemort." And it was only so poetic that her first kill, her loss of innocence, would be spent on her own brother, Harry thought.

Still she said nothing.

"Well here's a tip on the house. Go for the jugular, like a vampire, and they'll die real quick. Now here's the tricky part: once you're in don't stop. Cut deeper and you'll hit the trachea. I won't be able to scream and no attention will be alerted."

She was shaking vigorously. Harry touched her arm to steady her. It was the arm holding the knife. He repressed the urge to grab for it.

She tightened her hold of him. It was like a hug. As if they were both five again. Best friends, twins, holding each other. There was no place in the world he would rather be . . . .

And then there was a flash of intense pain. He couldn't breath. He began choking on his own blood. He fell down. Down. Down into the darkness.

(A/N) So I hope this wasn't a waste of your time. I would appreciate any input/comments/criticisms you have for me. Thanks for reading :)


End file.
